if they want a war, we'll give them a war. i'd match the best of troy against the best of greece any day. velior , a big-bellied nobleman, shakes his head.
so what do you suggest, we surrender the city, let the greeks slaughter our men and rape our wives? velior looks at paris until the prince returns his gaze.
our walls have never been breached. our archers are the best in the world. and we have hector. his men would fight the shades of tartarus if he commanded. we can win. archeptolemus , high priest of troy, wearing a long white robe embroidered with gold thread, now raises his voice.
does he have a chance? everyone looks at hector, who meditates before answering.
now! one thousand bronze-tipped arrows soar into the air, a deadly swarm of hornets that rises toward the clouds before descending on the charging greeks.
their morale is battered. hit them now, hit them hard, and they will run.
the gods are with them today! we should fall back! hector, fighting, does not answer.
apollo guard you, my prince. hector claps the general's shoulder and keeps walking. he stops beside paris. they embrace.
don't get too close, my king.
they thought they'd come here and sack our city in a day. and look at them now, fleeing across the aegean. priam stares up at the great horse.
i hope the sea god spits on their offering and lets them all drown at the bottom of the sea.
the prince is right. i'd burn all of greece if i had a big enough torch.
you men are soldiers. leading you has been an honor. paris runs into the hall. glaucus smiles and clasps hands with the prince. glaucus addresses the men.
the boatman is waiting for us. i say, let him wait a little longer! the men roar as the greeks spill into the reception hall.